My gift to you
by MoonSerenade
Summary: ErikOC, takes place 3 years after the movie. I know this isn't how you would have liked for me to begin this journal, Erik. But this is my gift to you and the story of our love. It all began that fateful September day, the day when I first met you.
1. Prologue: This is my gift to you

**My gift to you**

By MoonSerenade

**Prologue**

Is it fair that a man should be hated and feared because of a distortion to his face that he was born with? Is it fair that he should be called "Devil's child" and that his own mother should turn from him in repulsion? Is it fair that a soul of innocence and beauty should have to live his life in darkness, non-existing to the world? Is it fair that the Angel of Music, the genius, composer, architect and magician should be robbed of a life in daylight because of his disfigurement?

No, I don't believe it is.

There are many who would not agree with me on this. They would protest, shout to me: "Can you not see it? He bears the mark of the Devil on his face! He should be hunted down and killed!"

No, he shouldn't.

Beauty is so much more than just the outside. True beauty is that of the soul and no one could take the beauty of _his_ soul away from him. They would beat him, imprison him and eventually hang him, but whatever they would do, the beauty of his soul would still be intact; the beauty that I love.

I know this isn't how you would have liked for me to begin this journal, Erik. I know you would have rather liked for me to speak of our love from the beginning to the end and let the darker aspects of this story to be forgotten. Not to worry, dearest. This is my gift to you, my gift to our future children, and it will indeed revolve around love. But the truth needs to be unmasked once and for all and you and I are the only ones who could do it properly.

Oh, I know, darling that you would never have the patience to sit down and write our story in its entirety, so I took it upon myself to do it. I love you too much to leave it undone any longer.

Where to begin, then? I can not guess exactly when it all began for you, dearest. Was it the very night that the Opera Populaire burned in the famous incident with the chandelier? Or was it when your heart finally began to accept that Christine would never return? Was it when you found your way back to music?

For me, it was that fateful September day when I first came to Paris and the Opera Populaire; the day when I first met you.

**A/N: So what do you think? This is my first attempt to write a phanfic so please be nice, although flames are accepted. I promise that the first chapter will be a lot longer than the prologue. Love you all, please R&R!**


	2. The man in the shadows

**Chapter 1**

Serena Cartier was an innocent and naïve child, only nineteen of age, who had know little pain and hardship in her life. She grew up with her father, mother and a brother on the French countryside and her childhood was an everlasting summer of adventure and laughter. She had known some loss in my life, though; that of her uncle and grandfather, but had never experienced that heartbreaking feeling of having someone you love dearer than life itself to be taken away from you. Perhaps if she had lost a parent or sibling, she could have understood the pain that ravage the soul and leaves you longing for the arms of Death; anything to make the pain go away. But as her family was alive and well, and the countryside was a peaceful place to grow up in, she had known nothing of the sort.

It seems important to mention that she had never been in love either. She had heard about it, read about it and seen it be displayed in her parent's loving kisses, but had never felt it herself. Not until that year when her dream to become a chorus girl at the Opera Populaire came true. To sing was her passion and the chance to spend her life doing it as her profession was too good to pass up.

So there she was, standing in front of the doors to the newly-renovated Opera, eager to set her marks in those old walls. "People may forget, but the walls remember," Serena's mother used to say. "Long after the minds of men has turned cloudy with age and all the finer details are forever lost, the walls will still whisper to each other of the stories they have witnessed." For a little eight year old girl with auburn colored hair and big dark eyes, this was not hard to imagine – and still wasn't eleven years later.

The walls of the Opera Populaire spoke to Serena of passion, jealousy, tragedy and music.

* * *

A middle-aged woman with an aura of respect greeted Serena in the entrance hall. Madame Giry, she presented herself as and briskly guided her through the Opera, pointing out dressing rooms, practice rooms and dormitories as they went, making Serena all dizzy. The renovation of the Opera had been done excellent, making it close to impossible to tell new and old details apart. Serena felt pride well up inside her when thinking that this was her new home and that she was now part of something so magnificent. At long last, Madame Giry came to a halt outside a door and opened it to reveal a small room with a bed, a closet and a mirror, and proclaimed it to be her room.

"Dinner is served in two hours in the dining room I showed you earlier. Take the time until then to unpack and rest. I advice you not to go on some sort of expedition alone, Mademoiselle. Not everything is as it seems here. I shall see you in two hours." And with that, she left.

Serena spent an hour unpacking and making herself at home, but soon grew bored. Despite Madame's warning, she decided to go and have a look around. Perhaps Madame Giry had meant that not all reconstruction was done, but Serena could be careful. If she kept close to her room, surely she would be in no danger? So she went out into the corridor and took a right turn, heading through dimly lit halls and past closed doors, soon forgetting her vow to stay close to her room. She saw no one on her way and suddenly found herself at the main stage. Today's rehearsal was obviously over, for it was deserted. She just stood there in awed silence.

Before her were thousands of empty luxurious seats clad in red velvet. The big chandelier, also repaired of course, was not lit and only a few lanterns were alight here and there. She closed her eyes for a moment, imagining that she was the Prima Donna about to sing in front of a full house. She imagined the low murmur of the crowd, exclaims of delight when the light dimmed and the expectant silence before the orchestra began to play and the curtains rose. She could see all the well-dressed ladies and gentlemen's before her, with their fine costumes and expensive dresses adorned with jewelry, leaning forward in their seats as if worried to miss the slightest of details when the Opera began. And she imagined their applause and cheer after finishing her song.

A satisfied sigh escaped her and she slowly opened her eyes – only to give a startled jump and bite back a scream. Not ten feet from her, someone stood watching her in the shadows. She divined it to be a man because of his height, considering that he seemed to be about a head taller than her. He was entirely clad in black and had a long cape over his shoulders that flowed down behind him.

She forced her heart to resume its beating and breathed out with relief.

"Oh, Monsieur, you frightened me!"

"My apologies, Mademoiselle." His voice was low and mysterious, but oddly musical, and a shiver of pleasure went down her spine.

She smiled, a little embarrassed, and gestured to herself and the stage. "You must find me strange, standing all alone on the stage with my eyes closed as if dreaming," she said.

"Not at all, Mademoiselle. It is obvious that you were experiencing the memories of this room," he replied.

She considered him for a second; surprised that he had read her so easily. "Will you not let me see you, Monsieur?" She inquired, feeling his eyes bore right into her with an intensity that gave her shivers.

"Do you sing?" He asked, ignoring her question.

"Yes I do. I am the new chorus girl."

"Will you sing for me?"

She was surprised yet again. Why would he want for her to sing? Nevertheless, she complied for a reason unknown to her. It just felt right to sing for him.

"What would you like to hear?"

"Anything."

Serena smiled and took a deep breath.

_Alone for a while I've been searching through the dark,_

_For traces of the love you left inside my lonely heart,_

_To weave by picking up the pieces that remains,_

_Melodies of life – love's lost refrain._

_Our paths they did cross, though I cannot say just why._

_We met, we laughed, we held on fast, and then we said goodbye._

_And who'll hear the echoes of stories never told?_

_Let them ring out loud till they unfold._

_In my dearest memories, I see you reaching out to me._

_Though you're gone, I still believe that you can call out my name._

_A voice from the past, joining yours and mine,_

_Adding up the layers of harmony._

_And so it goes, on and on._

_Melodies of life,_

_To the sky beyond the flying birds – forever and beyond._

_So far and away, see the bird as it flies by,_

_Gliding through the shadows of the clouds up in the sky._

_I've laid my memories and dreams upon those wings._

_Leave them not and see what tomorrow brings._

_In your dearest memories, do you remember loving me?_

_Was it fate that brought us close and now leaves me behind?_

_A voice from the past, joining yours and mine,_

_Adding up the layers of harmony._

_And so it goes, on and on._

_Melodies of life,_

_To the sky beyond the flying birds – forever and on._

_If I should leave this lonely world behind,_

_Your voice will still remember our melody._

_Now I know we'll carry on._

_Melodies of life,_

_Come circling round and grow deep in our hearts_

_As long as we remember._

She let the last note ring for a few seconds before she stopped. The voice that had been a bit unsure of itself from the start, had grown stronger throughout the song and at the end, she had heard it reach to the very last row.

"Oh, Monsieur," she breathed. "The sound in here is perfect, just as I have dreamt it would be."

She heard a low chuckle from the shadows.

"Your voice, Mademoiselle, was perfect."

She felt a blush warm her cheeks and she averted her eyes to the floor.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Might I inquire of your name?" He asked hesitantly, as if he both wanted to know and at the same time didn't want to know.

"My name is Serena Cartier, Monsieur."

"I trust, Serena that we will meet again."

And then he was gone. His figure disappeared from the shadows and the intensity of his gaze vanished. That she no longer felt his eyes upon her convinced her more than anything that he was truly gone, for now at least.

She stood there for a while longer, silently wondering who the man had been. With a musical voice like that, he was probably a very talented singer himself. Maybe he worked here at the Opera?

Serena heard the chimes of the clock in the distant and cringed. She was late for dinner.

* * *

Erik Destler cursed himself silently all the way down to his lair. What had made him show himself to the young woman on the stage? Had he suddenly forgotten that he was wanted for murder and that the Police Department of Paris still wanted him hanged?

No, how could he?

Erik stopped for a moment and closed his eyes to prevent the familiar feeling of pain, sadness and guilt to take a hold of him. He could still hear the terrified screams in his dreams. Maybe his mind had been clouded with madness that night three years ago, but for several weeks later he would wake up screaming from his dreams. He had no idea how many that had died in that fire he had caused by cutting down the chandelier and to tell the truth, he really didn't want to know. Even if it had only been one, it was one too many. He hadn't mourned the loss of that idiot Jacques Bouquet in particular. The fool had been so scared of coming face to face with the Phantom of the Opera that he stumbled and fell down from the catwalks tangled up in a rope and immediately broke his neck in the fall. The only guilt Erik had in that was to have scared him.

But the incident with the chandelier was another matter. One person he knew for sure to have died was the leading soprano Piangi. The man had been unconscious and tied up behind the stage – Erik's doing, of course - and had been hit with the weight of the chandelier head-on. No one would have survived that and Piangi surely didn't. Whatever grudges Erik had against the Prima Donna Carlotta for her singing voice, he had never meant to kill her love. It had been a well-known fact that Carlotta and Piangi were in a relationship but the Phantom had unwillingly put an end to that.

Just imagine that he had done all that to win Christine once and for all and in the end she had still left with that fop of a Vicomte. That was the irony of fate, to be sure. Though, fate seemed to have a lot of irony in store when it came to his life. All he had ever wanted was to have someone who truly loved him and all he ended up having was a lonely and cold lair and nightmares of poor unfortunates burnt to death in a fire he had never really meant to start in the first place. Why be surprised? He was meant to be lonely, was he not?

His thoughts lingered a few seconds on the beautiful young woman with the amazing voice from earlier, but he forced them away. That was how it had all begun the last time and he would be damned if he made the same mistake again. But a small token of his admiration, he would still leave. After all, that was the custom of the Phantom of the Opera.

* * *

Madame Giry gave Serena a look of disapproval when she dashed in through the door to the dining room. Her first day at the Opera and she still came late for the first appointment Madame Giry had told her to keep; how promising!

"Not going to me a habit, I hope?" Madame Giry said sternly

"No, Madame, I'm so sorry! I… must have fallen asleep!"

For a split second, Serena had almost told her of the mysterious man at the stage, but to tell Madame Giry would be the same as admitting she had disobeyed her order not to go walking around and she was in trouble as it were already. So instead she told a lie.

Madame's eyes softened a bit.

"Ah, well, I can understand that your journey here was tiring. Here, you can sit beside my daughter. I'm sure you'll get along fine."

She gestured to a pretty blonde girl who smiled warmly at Serena. She seemed to be nice and was of the same age, so Serena sat down beside her.

"Hello, nice to meet you. You are the new chorus girl, non? My name is Meg Giry."

Serena returned her smile.

"Nice to meet you as well. My name is Serena Cartier."

All through dinner, they talked of everything and nothing and got very well along indeed. Meg was quite talkative and very sweet and they shared several laughs over dinner. After they'd eaten, Meg went with Serena to her room to make sure she didn't get lost.

"I know it's a bit hard to find your way around here in the beginning, but I'll help you," Meg assured.

Serena thanked her and Meg promised to pick her up in the morning for rehearsals. Meg was sadly not a chorus girl, but a ballet dancer, though the practice rooms were next to each other so it really didn't matter.

Serena went into her room and immediately stopped dead. A beautiful red rose with a black silk ribbon tied around the stem rested on her pillow. She gently picked it up, inhaling the sweet smell and noticed an envelope underneath it. The note inside consisted of only one sentence: "Your voice, Serena, was perfect." She smiled when thinking of the strange man earlier and hoped he would turn out to be part of the Opera crew so that she would see more of him. She changed into her nightgown and quickly fell asleep with the rose resting against her cheek.

* * *

**A/N: Opinions anyone? I know that it's pretty boring in the beginning but the story will pick up and become more interesting in a few chapters. Oh, and for all you Final Fantasy fans out there, like me, the song Serena sang in this chapter was Melodies of Life. Love you all, please R&R!**


	3. No one could ever love me

**Chapter 2**

Serena soon fell into the rhythm of the Opera. Every morning she would wake up and get dressed and then wait for Meg to come and pick her up. She learned almost instantly to find her way around, but it was nice to have a friend to talk to on the way to practice. She hadn't told anyone about the man or the rose, deciding it to be her secret for now.

At practice, she would sing scales and arias with the other seven chorus girls for a while, before starting to practice songs from the next Opera until lunch. Afterwards, everyone gathered at the stage to rehearse the play together. The other chorus girls were nice but they would only talk about boys and admirers and that subject held little interest to Serena. It was therefore a relief when afternoon came along so she at least had Meg to talk to. She studied the all male singers – who, by the way, only were four – but she only discovered disappointedly that none of them sounded in the least like the man she had met her first day.

One person she soon began to despise was the leading Prima Donna Carlotta Buicelli. Her singing was so awful to listen to that the cleaning woman were forced to put pieces of cotton wool into their ears to keep the noise out. Unfortunately, Serena couldn't do the same. Carlotta was a drama queen heart and soul and threatened to quit at least once a day. Sadly, she never carried out the threats. Med told Serena that Carlotta had been the Prima Donna before the Great Fire as well, but that she had been replaced on occasions by Meg's friend Christine Daae, who was now Countess the Chagny. Meg said that Carlotta probably didn't dare to quit for real for fear of being replaced again.

It was an afternoon like this, when Carlotta was having a fit and making a scene as usual, that Meg told Serena about the Phantom of the Opera.

"The Phantom of the Opera was a story stagehands used to tell the easily frightened ballet girls, myself included. Whenever something went wrong around here, someone would always whisper that _he_ had done it, that the Opera Ghost was responsible. Nothing could of course be proved and no one knew for sure if he was real or not. Not until three years ago, that is. It was the day the Opera Populaire got new managers and one of those unexplainable accidents occurred almost instantly. Well, you know Carlotta. That was enough reason for her to make a scene and she stormed off, refusing to sing in the play. Both my mother and I knew that Christine was a splendid singer and my mother convinced the managers to let her sing for them. She was a great success and the public raised her to the skies with her performance that night. Carlotta was soon back, however, and things soon began to lose control. Notes arrived, telling the managers to give Christine the leading part in the next Opera, Il Muto, and all notes were signed O.G. - Opera Ghost! The managers refused to be bullied around and even went so far as to rent out box 5 – " Meg made a break in her story to point out box 5 for her, "which always had been kept empty for the Phantom's usage. So in the middle of Il Muto, he appeared up at the ceiling demanding to know why his orders had been disobeyed. He didn't even raise his voice particularly and yet everyone inside the Opera could hear him. It was quite frightening! One of the stagehands, Jacques Bouquet, went up to catch him but only succeeded in getting himself killed by the Phantom. All of a sudden he dropped down on the stage, dangling in a noose!"

It was obvious that the memory of that night still haunted Meg's dreams.

"By now, the Vicomte de Chagny had taken an interest in Christine and they got engaged. The Phantom stayed silent and out of sight after that until the great Masquerade Ball at New Years Eve a couple of months later. That night he appeared, demanding that the managers performed an Opera he had written and that Christine was the only one worthy of playing the lead, if she agreed to take him back as her tutor. She later told me that it was he who had taught her to sing but that she never realized who he was. She thought it was the Angel of Music, sent by her father to watch over her after his death. The managers agreed to perform the Opera, secretly planning to catch the Phantom when he came to watch the play. The Opera was practically swarming with officers! What no one had taken into account, though, was that the Phantom would take the leading male's place for the song 'Past the Point of No Return'. He and Christine sang together and suddenly Christine removed his mask. Oh Serena, I can not describe the horror concealed by his mask so please don't ask me! Anyway, it was only then that the Phantom noticed the officers and he quickly cut the rope upholding the chandelier and then hit some sort of lever to open a trapdoor, taking Christine with him. A mob formed to hunt down and kill him and I followed them, only to find his lair beneath the Opera House abandoned and all the mirrors shattered, when we finally got there. The only thing I could find of him was his white mask. No one knows what took place down there that night but Christine got away unharmed. Soon afterwards, she married the Vicomte de Chagny and they moved out to the French Countryside. She comes to Paris now and then so that I can see her but she refuse to meet here at the Opera House. After that night, the Phantom was never heard of again and everyone says that he is dead."

They sat in silence after Meg had finished her story. Whatever crimes the Phantom was said to have committed, Serena still felt sorry for him. Had he been forced to live underneath the Opera House or had it been out of choice? It must have been horrible to live alone in the darkness!

"And…" Serena said after a while. "What do you think? Do you believe that he is dead?"

"I don't know for sure, but I think so. How else has he managed to put up with Carlotta's horrible singing voice these three years?" Meg said with a laugh.

Serena forced a smile, still thinking about the Phantom of the Opera. What had happened the night of the fire? What had taken place down in his lair between Christine and himself?

Madame Giry glared at them when hearing Meg laugh.

"What are you two doing over there? In case you haven't noticed, we are practicing an Opera here! On you feet and do the ballet from act four once more, Meg Giry! And you, Serena, should practice some scales!"

"Yes, Madame," they answered as one.

Serena got to her feet when she suddenly caught sight of someone up on the catwalks. She couldn't tell for sure – it might as well have been her imagination playing tricks on her, but she thought she saw the movement of someone dressed in black. Her face lit up with a smile. It must be that man from before that she had searched so hard for! Then another thought crossed her mind and her smile crumpled. What if it was _him_, the Phantom that she had talked to that day when she first came here? Who else could walk around unnoticed inside the Opera?

Meg watched her, confused.

"What are you looking at, Serena?"

She snapped out of it, wondering if she should tell her friend. But… no. She wouldn't want to say anything until she knew for sure.

"Oh, nothing! Good luck with your practice. I have to go to the bathroom."

Serena hurried off backstage, but instead of going to the bathroom, she carefully crept up the stairs to the catwalk. It was dark up there; the light of the lanterns and the chandelier not being able to penetrate the blackness. She stared at the place where she had seen the movement but it was far too dark to see anything.

"Hello?" She asked silently, not wanting anyone down on the stage to hear her. "Is anyone there?"

She extended her hand in front of her like a blind and felt her way along the catwalk.

"Hello?"

She came to a halt, shaking her head. How stupid she must look!

"You were seeing things," she told herself. "There's no one up here but you."

She turned around to go back when suddenly someone put a gloved hand over her mouth and pulled her further into the shadows.

* * *

Serena's breath caught in her throat and she tried to scream.

"Your voice, Serena, is perfect," the low musical voice from so many weeks ago whispered in her ear.

She relaxed. Phantom or not, he didn't hurt her the last time she met him and she highly doubted he would do it now. When he felt her relax, he slowly removed his hand from her mouth and she turned around, though still not being able to see him.

"Monsieur, once again you managed to frighten me."

"I know," he answered, clearly pleased.

"What are you doing up here, Monsieur? I bet you didn't come to hear Carlotta sing?"

He chuckled.

"No, I would never do that voluntarily. I was rather hoping to hear you sing again, Serena."

"Ah, well, I could hardly sing for you up here. Someone on the stage might hear me. Let's make a deal instead: I'll sing for you later today if you tell me your name."

He sighed.

"I go by many names."

"Then tell me one and I promise to meet you on the rooftop tonight and sing for you."

He was silent for a few moments.

"I guess you could call me… Erik."

She smiled.

"Erik. That name suits your voice, Monsieur. Tonight, then."

She felt her way back to the stairs and briefly turned back before descending them.

"Goodbye, Erik."

He didn't answer her, but she still believed he had heard.

* * *

Erik watched her leave and released a breath he didn't even realized he had held. It was something about that girl that made him behave irresponsibly. He had promised himself to have nothing more to do with her and had forced himself not to make a move when she came up to the catwalk. But when she moved forward and stopped only three feet away from him with that cute frown on her face, he couldn't help himself. He had to touch her, to hear her voice.

To watch her from the shadows of the catwalk, like he had done these past weeks, wasn't enough. He wanted more. And while his head screamed at him to ignore her promise to meet him at the roof that night, his heart pleaded for him to go. Unfortunately, he had always followed his heart more than his head. Christine was yet again a perfect example. Why else had he allowed her to go free that night when all he had to do was to kill the fop and drag her away to some place where the world would never find them? The answer was simple. He couldn't stand that look of hurt in her eyes. He would have done anything to keep her happy. Even letting her go and by doing so condemning himself to a life of loneliness where even music could no longer bring him any joy. The ironic thing was that he had no doubt he would make the same choice again. Oh, what a fool the man that follows his heart is!

* * *

Serena made sure that no one was following her when she left her room later that night. A part of her kept asking why she was doing this. She willingly went to see the Phantom alone on the roof to sing for him! She must have lost her mind! But deep down, she knew that she had to see him and talk to him again. He fascinated her. No matter how much Meg had told her about him, she still wanted to know more. She wanted to get to know him, to be his friend.

Why, she couldn't say really. It felt like something she had to do. Of all the people inside this Opera house, he had chosen to reveal himself to_ her_! Everyone thought that he was dead and if they knew he wasn't, they would capture him and kill him right away. He must know that and yet he had showed himself. Did he want something from her? Was he in need of a friend, or perhaps a favor? Her curiosity was killing her; she had to know.

But no matter how curious she was, she remained on her guard. If the stories were true, he had killed before and would probably not hesitate to do it again. It would be foolish to think of him as harmless.

She slowly opened the door out to the roof. It seemed to be deserted but she knew he was there somewhere. Even if she couldn't see him, she could feel his eyes watching her. She considered calling out to him but decided to comply with his wish first.

_Whenever sang my songs_

_On the stage, on my own_

_Whenever said my words_

_Wishing they would be heard_

_I saw you smiling at me_

_Was it real or just my fantasy?_

_You'd always be there in the corner_

_Of this tiny little bar_

_My last night here for you_

_Same old songs just once more_

_My last night here with you?_

_Maybe yes, maybe no_

_I kind of liked it your way_

_How you shyly placed your eyes on me_

_Did you ever know_

_That I had mine on you?_

_Darling, so there you are_

_With that look on your face_

_As if you're never hurt_

_As if you're never down_

_Shall I be the one for you_

_Who pinches you softly but sure?_

_If frown is shown then _

_I will know that you are no dreamer_

_So let me come to you_

_Close as I want to be_

_Close enough for me_

_To feel your heart beating fast_

_And stay there as I whisper_

_How I love your peaceful eyes on me_

_Did you ever know _

_That I had mine on you?_

_Darling, so share with me_

_Your love if you have enough_

_Your tears if you're holding back_

_Or pain if that's what it is_

_How can I let you know_

_I'm more than the dress and the voice?_

_Just reach me out then_

_You will know that you are not dreaming_

_Darling, so there you are_

_With that look on your face_

_As if you're never hurt_

_As if you're never down_

_Shall I be the one for you_

_Who pinches you softly but sure?_

_If frown is shown then _

_I will know that you are no dreamer…_

Serena waited, knowing he wouldn't be able to resist making himself known if he was here. It was deathly quiet and just as she was about to give up and go back to her room, a voice drifted with the wind towards her.

"Brava, Brava, Bravissima!"

She smiled, looking all around her but seeing no one.

"Erik? Are you there?" She asked.

"I am always here, Mademoiselle," he whispered in her ear and she spun around with a gasp.

For the first time, she was able to see him properly. Sure the roof was pretty dark, but not dark enough for him to hide. He was almost a head taller than her, dressed in black as she had already suspected and wearing a long cape. His hair was dark, somewhere between brown and black, and his eyes were blue as the midnight sky. The famous white mask, said by Meg to conceal such horror, covered the right side of his face. The part that was visible, however, was extremely handsome.

He met her gaze, his eyes hardening.

"Stared at me long enough, Mademoiselle?" He snarled.

She blushed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean… And whatever happened to calling me Serena? I have a name, you know, and I would like for you to use it."

He didn't answer, only watched her silently.

"You know who I am," he stated after a while.

"Of course I do. You're Erik."

"I meant the stories Little Giry was telling you earlier today."

"If you're asking if I know that you are the Phantom of the Opera, then the answer is also yes."

"Then what are you doing here?"

She was confused.

"What do you mean, 'what are you doing here'? I came here because I said I would sing for you."

"Little Giry tells you about all the crimes I've committed – among them murder – and yet you agree to meet me up here all alone? Are you not scared?"

She smiled at him.

"If my first meeting with you had consisted of threats and attempts of murder, then I would have been scared. But all you've done so far is to compliment my singing voice, given me a rose and shown your apparent fascination for scaring me to death whenever I see you. That doesn't sound so frightening to me."

He smiled teasingly.

"Then aren't you scared I will try to threat you or kill you now?"

"Not particularly, no. I came here to fulfill my promise and in hopes of becoming your friend."

He looked at her disbelievingly.

"You want to be my friend? I'm a maniac on a death spree and you want to be my friend? Are you out of your mind?"

She laughed at the maniac on death spree comment.

"Technically, you can't be on a death spree because you haven't killed anyone these past three years. Though, how you've managed to leave Carlotta alone when she practically _destroys_ every song she sings, I will never understand. And to answer your question, yes I may be out of my mind but I thought you might need a friend. It can't be fun to live all by yourself with no one to talk to."

"And what would we, as friends, be doing?"

"I will sing for you, if you want me to. Or you could play something for me. I've heard you are a genius on both violin and organ."

"Who told you that?"

"Meg, when I plagued her during dinner about all she could think of revolving the Phantom."

He smiled again.

"Then I will make a deal with you. If you think of another beautiful song to sing for me next time we meet, I promise to play the violin for you."

"It's a deal then!"

She noticed the faint light at the horizon and knew she had to go. Dawn would not come for another few hours but she really needed her sleep to cope with the next day.

"I'm sorry, but I really think I should be going back."

"I know. Madame Giry will check on you soon and we wouldn't want to alarm her, now, would we?"

She shook her head.

"Goodnight then, Erik." She walked to the door and then suddenly turned back towards him. "You know, I can't understand why everyone's afraid of you when I can see nothing to be scared of."

His blue eyes stared at her for the longest time.

"There's plenty to be scared of, Serena. I just save my dangerous side for everyone else. It's only for you that I suppress it."

"I see. You shouldn't, though. If you keep everyone at arm's length, they will never get a chance to be your friend and love you."

He closed his eyes, as if pained.

"No one could ever love me, Serena."

* * *

**A/N: What do you think? Opinions and flames are welcome. I guess you can see that I love Final Fantasy, huh? The song Serena sang in this chapter was Eyes on me. Love you all, please R&R**


	4. Take me with you

**Chapter 3**

To Serena's great dismay, she never had any more chance to see Erik for several weeks. The practice intensified now that the premiere drew closer and Madame Giry hardly let them out of her sight. She and the vocals teacher, Madame Valet, made them practice harder than ever before and none of them got enough sleep to manage anything else besides dinner and then go straight to bed after practice.

It was obvious that Carlotta was becoming nervous as well. Her fits and threats to quit increased to almost ten times as many each day and Serena couldn't help but silently wish Erik had disposed of her when he'd had the chance three years ago during his "death spree". Immediately, she regretted her thoughts. Sure Carlotta was a living Hell and Serena wouldn't mind very much if she happened to get sick or injured soon that the rest of them could relax, but she wouldn't want her dead. And she especially didn't want Erik to be responsible for it.

She was both surprised and happy that her plan to befriend Erik had gone so well. She had almost expected him to either laugh in her face or threaten to kill her if she so much as mentioned it ever again. Instead, he had accepted without a second thought. Maybe he was just as lonely as she had imagined. Though, it would have been nice to be able to see him much more often.

It was on the morning of the big day, the day the play had premiere that everything began to go wrong. She'd heard of the saying that if something didn't go wrong on the last rehearsal, the show would be a disaster, but this was ridiculous. Two of the stagehands were late for practice and as a result, the other two had to take care of their duties as well as their own and Carlotta soon found herself underneath a fake tree that someone knocked down by mistake. Serena's thoughts instantly flew to Erik and she dreaded he had at last made his opinion of the Diva's singing voice know. To her relief, one of the stagehands stepped forward and took the blame for the accident and Carlotta had to be restrained from jumping at him. Then one of the ballet dancers twisted her ankle so badly she would not be able to participate on the premiere and she cried bitterly at the side. An hour later, the two missing stagehands came dashing through the doors apologizing again and again for their late arrival and rehearsal had to take a break yet again while the managers gave them a rating. And then Carlotta hit a wrong note – as if she didn't do that all the time – and momentarily lost her voice. Monsieur Reyer, the conductor, nearly cried when it was established that while Carlotta would be able to sing on the premiere, there was no way she would be able to perform her solo song "Remember".

"Is there anyone else who can sing well enough to substitute Carlotta on this song?" the managers asked worriedly. "One of the chorus girls perhaps?"

None of the other chorus girls said anything. Serena knew none of them liked to sing alone, but instead preferred to sing with others. If someone was to save the show, it had to be her. But to sing in front of all those people tonight…! Serena felt her stomach turn to knots. Nonetheless, she raised my hand.

"I could do it, Monsieur's."

"Ah, there we have it! Please then, mademoiselle, sing for us."

She took a step forward, her legs shaking and tried to calm her nerves. She desperately threw a pleading glace up towards the catwalk and for a moment, she saw Erik staring back at her. He nodded and her nervousness vanished in a heartbeat. If Erik was watching, everything was alright. She just had to imagine that this were like one of those times when she sang only for him.

The orchestra began to play and she took a deep breath.

_Remember, I will still be here  
As long as you hold me, in your memory _

Remember, when your dreams have ended  
Time can be transcended  
Just remember me

I am the one star that keeps burning, so brightly,  
It is the last light, to fade into the rising sun

I'm with you  
Whenever you tell, my story  
For I am all I've done

Remember, I will still be here  
As long as you hold me, in your memory  
Remember me

I am that one voice in the cold wind, that whispers  
And if you listen, you'll hear me call across the sky

As long as I still can reach out, and touch you  
Then I will never die

Remember, I'll never leave you  
If you will only  
Remember me

_Remember, I will still be here  
As long as you hold me  
In your memory _

Remember, when your dreams have ended  
Time can be transcended  
I live forever  
Remember me

Remember me  
Remember... me…

Everyone stared at her in amazement after she'd finished and for a moment it was quiet enough to hear a needle fall to the floor. Then everyone began to applaud and cheer and she felt herself blush. A smile formed on her lips and she knew that everything would go well on the premiere. She looked up to the catwalks again and smiled in thanks. Meg jumped up and hugged her and she used the distraction to ask Erik with gestures if he would be watching tonight as well. He nodded and then he was gone.

Serena closed her eyes in relief. If Erik was there, everything would be alright.

* * *

'Nervous' couldn't even begin to describe what Serena felt that night. She had been given a dressing room to get ready for her solo song and they had told her that she could keep it as her room for the time being. She stood in front of the mirror, shifting from foot to foot and chewing her lip. Why in God's name had she agreed to do this? She should have never said anything, just stared at the floor like the other chorus girls had been doing! She should have pretended she didn't dare to sing in front of all those people out there! She would make a fool of herself, she knew she would!

She took another look at herself in the mirror. The deep blue dress shimmered like the night sky in the candle lights and would probably look even better on stage later. Her thick, slightly wavy, auburn colored hair had been piled in a mass of loose curls upon her head and some makeup had been applied to intensify her dark eyes. To tell the truth, she knew she had never looked better in her entire life. The problem was she wasn't going out there to be beautiful. She was going out there to sing and right now she doubted if she could get a single note right.

She shut her eyes, childishly wishing that everything would turn out to have been a horrible nightmare once she opened them. But then she felt his eyes upon her and she quickly looked up. She was still alone in the dressing room, but she knew he was nearby. She could feel his presence.

"Are you there, Erik?" She wondered out loud.

"I'm always here, Serena," his musical voice answered in a whisper.

"Oh, Erik, I don't know if I can do this! I'm so nervous I can't stand still! What if I mess up and make a complete fool of myself?"

"I believe in you," he said.

Serena opened her mouth to ask what he meant when Meg Giry burst through the door.

"Are you all right, Serena? I thought I heard you talking to someone."

"No, I'm fine. I was just… talking to myself. I have a habit for doing that whenever I'm nervous."

"You don't have to worry, Serena. You truly have the voice of an angel. I think you would even exceed Christine in that field."

"Don't exaggerate, Meg. Christine was the Prima Donna of the Opera Populaire. I could never do so well."

Meg shook her head and sighed.

"Of course you could. But never mind that now. The show begins in five minutes and we have to hurry to the stage. Come on!"

And so Meg dragged her out of the room before she had a chance to talk to Erik again. Serena cast one last look over her shoulder and thought she saw the mirror in her room move, but she couldn't tell for sure.

* * *

Albert de Martin had done well in his life. Ten years earlier, he had inherited his father's shipping business and given all his time and money to expand the firm. Some said his success was due to that the Lady Luck favored him, but Albert himself knew it was all about skill. And he sure had an eye for business. It would be a lie to say that his father had been a skilled business man. He had been more of a man to take each day as they came and never look ahead in particular. Albert, on the other hand, had come to realize that making business was similar to making war and that dishonest methods was more profitable than kind words and proper agreements.

But that was a part of his business that he rarely confessed to know about. That part of his business was handled by his right hand and close friend Pierre Morel, a man that didn't care one bit about laws and regulations. If someone was in the way of Monsieur de Martin's interest, Pierre would soon have taken care of that person.

Many would say that Albert de Martin was a gentleman and would never harm anyone, but that was far from the truth. Albert was a man who was used to getting what he wanted – no matter the cost.

And one thing that he really didn't want to do tonight was to attend the Opera. Unfortunately, many of his clients and the people he had to impress loved the Opera and so he was often forced to go even though he absolutely loathed La Carlotta's shrilly voice. How that woman became the Prima Donna of the Opera was above him. Clearly, the managers must be fools.

Nevertheless, Albert would never show his dislike openly. Tonight, as every other night, he was the true emblem of youth, wealth and power. He never wore anything but the latest fashion and his brown hair was always perfectly slicked back. His mouth smiled to everyone he met, but his black eyes remained serious.

He took his seat in one of the boxes and prepared for another night of headache. Sure enough, La Carlotta's voice soon filled the theatre. Was it just him or was it less piercing tonight? Lower and more controlled? Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

Albert had almost dozed off when the third act began and he hid a yawn behind his hand. And then sat up straight with surprise when instead of La Carlotta, the voice of an angel rang out inside the Opera.

The vision before him had a lovely dark blue dress and shiny brown and red hair. Her eyes sparkled like stars and a small secretive smile played at the corner of her lips while she sang her song. The whole Opera sat spellbound while she sang and not one remained seated when she was done. Everyone rose to their feet and applauded and whistled as a show of their appreciation. And Albert de Martin made his decision in a heartbeat. That woman would be his.

* * *

After the show, back in her dressing room, Serena couldn't help but laugh in pure joy and relief. Never had she imagined that everything would go so well. Afterwards, she couldn't understand what she had been so nervous about. As soon as she walked onto that stage, calm settled over her and her stage fright turned to excitement. This was exactly what she had envisioned before her that day when she stood on the stage with her eyes closed. She had heard the low murmur, the exclaims of delight when the curtains rose and the expectant silence before the orchestra began to play. She had seen all the well-dressed ladies and gentlemen leaning forward in their seats as if afraid they would miss the slightest word she sang. And she had heard and seen them all rise to their feet to applaud her and cheer for her. Everything had been like she had imagined that first day here at the Opera, right before she had met Erik for the first time. Speaking of which…

"Erik?" Serena asked. "Are you there?"

She waited a few seconds, but no one answered. That's weird. Up until now, he had always been around to answer her when she called. Had he been disappointed with her performance? Had she let him down in some way?

Starting to feel worried, Serena was just about to call out again when there was a knock on her door.

"Please enter," she said.

She had never before seen the gentleman who walked into the room, but had to admit that he was extremely handsome. His suit was irreproachable and his features fair, but his dark eyes – close to black – unnerved her. They had the look of a predator in hunt for fresh meat and she had a growing suspicion that she was the main dish. Serena silently reprimanded herself. It was ill-mannered to judge someone you didn't know.

"Mademoiselle, allow me to introduce myself," the gentleman said with an elegant bow.

His voice would probably have been considered pleasing to most people, but compared to Erik's it was harsh and feigned. This gentleman had the voice of butter, while Erik's was of honey and sunshine – rich and powerful. But why in God's name was she even comparing this man to Erik?

"I," the gentleman continued, "am Albert de Martin, a highly respected and wealthy businessman. I came here to confess that your voice captivated me and had me spellbound earlier when you sang. It was by far the most beautiful thing I have ever heard and the only thing capable of surpassing its splendor would be your looks, mademoiselle."

"Um, thank you," she replied, confused. Had he come only to compliment her?

"I beg of you, mademoiselle, to give me your name so that I know in what name to send roses after the next show. Surely, after a performance like that, you will be given the leading part next time."

There was something about Albert de Martin that gave her the creeps. She desperately wished he would go away and hoped he would do so if she told him her name.

"My name is Serena Cartier, monsieur. And though it's very kind of you, I do not think I will be given the leading part in the next show. After all, La Carlotta is the Prima Donna of the Opera Populaire."

"A title you deserve more than her," Albert whispered and stepped closer to her.

She took a step back and gave him an apologizing smile.

"I'm very sorry, monsieur, but the performance tonight has left me weary and I would very much like to go to bed."

"A pity, mademoiselle," he said while taking yet another step towards her. "I wanted to invite you out to supper."

"Ah, well, I'm sorry but I don't think I could manage that," she lied, her mind screaming for him to back off. He was disturbingly close now and she feared he might try and kiss her if she didn't get rid of him soon.

"A pity, as I said, but perhaps another time then?" He asked, his charming smile vanishing to be replaced with a scowl.

"Yes, perhaps," she said and ducked under his arm to take her nightgown out of the closet.

When he made no move to leave, she raised her eyebrow in question.

"Do you intend to stay and watch while I change?"

He quickly straightened and his feigned smile returned.

"No, of course not, I'm sorry. Until next time then, mademoiselle Cartier."

She nodded and he left the room.

As soon as the door closed behind him, she sank down on her bed with a sigh. She couldn't understand why he unnerved her and scared her so but she did know that she wished never to see him again. Something about him was not right and she had no plans to stick around and discover what it was.

"What would you have done if he had wanted to stay and watch?" Erik's voice whispered to her in the silent dressing room.

"So now you feel fit to appear, do you?" She replied tiredly.

"I have been here all the time since you returned."

She got on to her feet, her eyes hurt.

"Then why did you not answer when I called for you? I thought you were disappointed with my performance tonight!"

His low chuckle danced off the wall and against her will she felt her spirits lift immediately. What was it about him that always got her into a good mood?

"I heard him coming and couldn't very well tell you of my presence in case he would hear. But you didn't answer my question. What would you have done if he had stayed?"

"Thrown him out, of course. There's something about him that frightens me. Maybe it's those eyes… Never mind. In any case, you didn't tell me if I did well tonight or not."

She could almost hear the smile in his voice when he replied.

"You could never do badly, Serena. Your voice was, like always, perfect."

She smiled in thanks and studied the room carefully.

"Where are you?" She asked.

"Right here."

"I can't see you. Please, let me see you." On an impulse she added: "Take me with you."

Silence filled the room for the longest time. She knew he had heard her and she knew exactly what she asked of him. The last person he had willingly showed his home to had to be Christine and he must be thinking about her at this very moment. And at the same time she knew he had to move on and find his way back to life. If this woman had been so quick to walk away from him, she could be nothing to mourn in Serena's eyes. Though, she would of course never be so stupid as to tell him that.

"What did you ask of me?" He said at long last.

"I asked you to take me with you. Show me the part of the Opera Populaire that I never see. Show me where you live."

Slowly, the full-length mirror on the wall before her slid to the side and revealed Erik standing behind it. His eyes met her in what felt like an eternity.

"No one would be so stupid as to follow me down to my home. No one would willingly surrender their safety into the hands of the Phantom of the Opera," he said, as if trying to warn her.

"I'm your friend, Erik. I trust you without a doubt in my heart. I would gladly put my safety into your hands any day of the week."

For a moment, she could have sworn she saw tears in his eyes but then he smiled that mysterious smile that always had her so captivated. He extended his hand towards her.

"I would be honored to have you as a guest in my house, Serena."

Without looking back, she placed her hand in his and let him lead her through the mirror, which gently slid back into place behind them as they vanished into the darkness.

* * *

**A/N: Pretty exciting, huh? What'll happen down in Erik's lair? I promise not to do a "Christine" and rip his mask off the first opportunity Serena gets. Still think it was wrong of her to do that. That mask might be there for a reason, you know? Oh, and the song I used in this chapter was Remember by Josh Groban. I absolutely love his voice! Anyway, please R&R! Love you all! **


	5. A game of chess

**Disclaimer: I realized I have been neglectful. I have completely forgotten to tell the world that The Phantom of the Opera does _not_ belong to me and the only thing that actually does is Serena. But I guess you had already figured that out, huh? Anyway, on with the story!**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

The path was dark, with only just enough light seeping its way in through the cracks in the walls to make it able for Serena to see where she was going. The sound of dripping water reached her ear and she could feel a random rat hurrying out of the way for her, all the while squeaking in protest. Had she been down here all alone, she would probably have been deathly scared. But now, with Erik's hand maintaining a firm grip on hers, she felt safe. She trusted him to know the way and she followed him blindly, never hesitating.

In truth, she did not know why she longed for his company so much. Whenever they had been unable to see each other for several days, Serena would grow impatient and short-tempered, always keeping a lookout for his silhouette in the shadows. While the ballet girls would speak of the Phantom in voices hushed with fear, Serena felt nothing of the sort. She was genuinely interested in his well-being and was concerned about him having no one to turn to when he was troubled. That, more than anything, had spurred her to befriend him.

A chilly draught brought her out of her thoughts and Erik looked back at her when she shivered.

"I know it's pretty cold down here. I've grown used to it but I imagine it must be uncomfortable for you," he said and halted for a moment to unclasp his cape.

He draped it around her shoulders and she felt warmer at once. They continued walking and she couldn't help but burying her nose in the cape, inhaling his scent. It smelled of damp and something she couldn't put her finger on. A faint memory of a summer day many years ago drifted across her mind before vanishing and she dismissed it for now, confident that she would remember it one day.

After several twists and turns the path gave way for a large winding staircase in stone, traveling deeper down into the blackness further than she could see.

"You're not afraid of the dark, are you?" Erik asked when she stared down to where its end would be.

"No, only if I'm alone," she answered but still frowned with worry.

"I'm here with you, Serena. I won't go anywhere. I promise not to leave you alone in the darkness," he said and she smiled and let him lead her down the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, a gondola was tied to the shore of a small lake. On the other end of the lake, she could see the flickering light of candles beyond a gateway. Erik helped her down into the gondola and stood behind her to pole the gondola along. Ever so often, she would look up at him, making sure he was still there. No matter how much she wanted to be brave, the dark had always frightened her a bit. It could be soothing also, but only if she knew where she was and that no danger lured close by. Down here, the darkness was heavy, pressing at her from every side as if trying to swallow her whole. That thought only produced more frightening images and she forced herself to think about something else. Like if Erik was still with her, for example. She threw another glance up at him and he met her gaze.

"What frightens you, Serena? I told you I would not abandon you here in the dark."

"I know you wouldn't. It's just… I've always feared the dark a little bit and the darkness down here is so thick I could almost grasp it."

"I've discovered that the dark proves useful when you want to hide."

"Yeah, that's another thing. Sure you can hide in the darkness but the problem is someone else could do the same thing, waiting for the opportune moment to strike at you."

"Not to worry. I would know if anyone was here."

She dropped the subject, a little comforted but still on her guard. She forgot all her thoughts of danger, however, when they traveled through the gateway and she first laid eyes upon Erik's home. Before he had made this place his home, it had probably looked like every other cave, with different shelves connected to each other by natural steps formed by the water long ago. But now, with the walls covered in red drapes and thick carpets on the ground, it looked nothing like a cave anymore. Candelabras stood everywhere, even in the lake, and a fire sparkled in the hearth on one of the shelves made to be the living room, with cozy armchairs, a couch placed in front of the fire and with a table on which an exquisite chessboard was placed. An organ stood on the middle shelf with large stacks of paper sheets on top of it. A violin case leaned against the organ and several models of grand buildings stood on a table nearby. A staircase in stone traveled from the right side of the organ up to three different openings, each with a black and red drape in front of it. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen and it suited him perfectly.

"This is amazing," she breathed, deeply impressed, as he helped her out of the gondola.

It was a fortress of beauty and rich colors, a world of magic hidden from the real world. Down here, time seemed irrelevant and daylight unnecessary. This place was untouched by the world she came from and the raw brutality so often displayed on the streets of Paris. And yet, despite all the wonders she could see here in his home, it was clear that this place held him chained. What was a fortress of beauty in her eyes was a fortress of solitude and pain in his. Because while Serena was busy taking in everything around her, Erik had remained standing on the docks beside the gondola, watching her with sorrowful eyes.

What had Christine done to him? Had she realized, as she turned her back on him and fled with the handsome Vicomte, that she by doing so condemned Erik to a lifetime of regrets and pain – a life he would have to live alone?

"I could show you around if you want to," Erik offered silently, his eyes watchful.

And suddenly Serena was hit by the realization that right now, she was probably behaving exactly as Christine had done the first time Erik took her to see his home. If Serena did everything she had done; befriending him and earning his trust, to try and prevent history from repeating itself, she would have to make a change right at this moment. Some things were of course different already; Christine had not known from the beginning that her Angel of Music was the Phantom of the Opera.

But right here, right now, Serena found herself at an important and critical moment. It was up to her to change things from now on. This was the final test. This was where Christine would have happily accepted without a second thought.

"This _is_ amazing," she repeated and turned towards him. "But what I really long for right now, is to play a game of chess."

For a moment, his eyes studied her as if trying to make sure she wasn't joking. Then a smile touched his lips and she knew she had passed the test. She had proven to him once and for all that she was nothing like Christine, for Meg had once told her that Christine despised chess above all other things.

"Then it is a good thing, Serena that chess happens to be one of my favorite pastimes. Shall we?"

* * *

Whenever Serena had dared to dream about singing on a stage with great success, she had never thought she would celebrate on the night of her debut with a game of chess – and actually enjoy it more than any fancy dinner with the high society of France. But she found that she did. Her father had spent many an afternoon playing with her and in time she had grown quite skillful, so it was not long until she won over her father every time they played. With Erik, however, she had to concentrate harder and try to be as sly and foreseeing as possible. It really put her skills on the edge and she felt the anticipation of competing rise within her. Time seemed to fly while they were seated in front of the chessboard and many hours later, Erik cast a brief glance at the clock and gave a startled jump.

"Is that the time? Good Lord, Serena, I did not mean for you to stay up this late! You must be exhausted after everything that has happened today."

Serena yawned and gave him a sleepy smile.

"I'm not tired. It's your turn."

"I think," Erik began and stood up to put away the chessboard,"that we should continue this game another day."

She rose to her feet as well, blinking tiredly like an owl.

"Where will I sleep, then?"

He gently took her hand and led her up the steps to the opening with the black and red drapes at the far left.

"This room will be yours to use. Mine is the one to the right and the kitchen's in the middle."

Behind the drapes to her room, a beautiful bed in the shape of a swan waited for her, covered in blankets and pillows of velvet and silk. She climbed into it, smiling softly when he tucked the blankets around her. Her eyes drifted shut almost immediately after laying her head on the pillows and so she couldn't tell for sure if his lips pressed against her forehead for a moment or not.

"Sleep tight, Serena," his voice whispered in the darkness and she let the last of her consciousness slip away, confident that she was safe there with him.

* * *

"You're a fool for daring to believe that this young woman feels something more for you than just friendship," Erik said to himself after making sure Serena was asleep.

He made his way back into the living room and sat down in front of the fireplace, his eyes coming to rest on their half-finished game of chess. He chuckled softly when noticing he had at last cornered that damn queen of hers; the one she had used to take out several of his pieces. She was good; there was no question about it. He couldn't even remember the last time he had had someone to play chess with. Lord knows Christine wouldn't play even if her life depended on it.

He sighed, his head inclining to rest against the back of the armchair. Why did his mind always return to Christine? Why couldn't he just forget her and move on? Why did his brain insisting on reminding him when it only brought him more pain?

Not many things scared him in this life. He had seen and experienced too much to be fainthearted. But three years ago, when he sat in the darkness of the pathway behind his mirror and listening to the mob tearing through his house in search of him, he had realized that there _were_ two things that actually did scare him.

The first one was himself. He had let his love for Christine be replaced by an obsession that ravaged his heart and soul every waking moment until he slipped over the edge of madness. At the end, he had no longer any control of his actions. He had known that he had gone too far, that he should stop it at once, but it was impossible for him to think clearly. It was like being a prisoner inside your own body, seeing everything that went on around you and still being unable to restrain yourself. It was like being possessed. Now afterwards, the dark and menacing side of him that had been displayed three years ago scared the death out of him. If he was capable of something like that, he must truly be the monster everyone had accused him of being his whole life.

The other thing that scared him was to be alone. Before that whole affair with Christine, loneliness was something he had appreciated and longed for. But over the years, the walls in his cave seemed to close in on him and the rooms seemed to grow smaller. The silence in his home was suddenly overwhelming and he couldn't even bring himself to play the piano anymore to make the music heard above the silence. For all the death and destruction he had caused, he was damned to this prison of silence and solitude for the rest of his wretched life.

"_But you're not alone right now, are you?" _A small voice inside his head whispered to him and he immediately got to his feet to rush up to Serena's room, making sure she was still there.

The wild beating of his heart slowed down considerably when his eyes fell upon her sleeping form. No, right now he wasn't alone in this prison. Right now, an angel had willingly followed him down here and on top of that spent the better part of the night in front of his chessboard, talking and joking with him as if they had known each other for ages and not a couple of months.

It was possible that she didn't realize how happy that made him. For once in his life, someone _wanted_ to spend some time with him without being forced or acting out of fear. That was more than he could have ever hoped for.

* * *

For a moment, confusion and fear welled up inside her when she opened her eyes. It was too dark and the familiar feeling of panic threatened to overtake her. Then she took a deep, calming breath when realizing she was in the bedroom Erik had showed her to earlier. She slowly got out of bed and treaded lightly over to the drapes that hung in front of the opening.

In the living room, the fire had burned down to glowing pieces of wood and most of the candelabras had been put out. It was only at the organ that candles still burned and lit up the form of a man sitting in front of it, with his fingers resting on the keys without playing. His whole appearance spoke of the longing he felt for letting his fingers dance over the keys again but still an aura of hesitation and fear surrounded him.

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and made sure her hair looked presentable. Then she called out to him softly, not wanting to scare him.

"Erik?"

He turned towards her, his eyes serious and sad.

"Yes Serena?"

She began descending the steps, coming to a halt in front of him.

"Why won't you play?"

He sighed and averted his eyes to the floor, his head turning back to the organ.

"I can't anymore," he answered, his voice cracking as if he was on the verge of tears.

"Why?"

She didn't know if it was right of her to push him like this. Maybe he would have told her out of his own one day, but she really wanted to know. Meg had said that Christine had been spellbound by Erik's skills with the organ and Serena wanted to know what it was with his music that had everyone so captivated. How did he play to make everyone stop in their tracks, unable to move on until he held up? How could he write music that pinpointed exactly what people felt?

"I don't have any inspiration. My music has abandoned me. Two years ago, I gave up. I could no longer write and every note I played sounded sour. It's no use."

"Is it because of… her?"

His eyes returned to hers and she felt shivers run down her back. Suddenly, his eyes had turned from sad to angry. He rose from his position on the bench, his height making her feel small.

"Christine, you mean? Don't presume that you know _anything_ about her. Don't think you understand _in the least_ what I felt for her. Don't you ever think for _a second _that you can imagine how it feels to have the one you love turn away from you in fear and repulsion!"

He stepped closer to her, his eyes sparkling dangerously.

"Erik, you're scaring me," she whispered and took a step back.

As quickly as it had appeared, the anger in his eyes vanished and the old sadness returned. He looked completely horrified when realizing what he had been about to do.

"Serena, I'm so sorry… I didn't mean… I would never…" He abruptly cut himself off and turned his back on her with a strangled cry. "What is happening to me? Will I never be free of that horrid feeling of anger that I can not control?"

He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders starting to shake with sobs. Every wall around his heart to keep others at a distance was gone now. Every pretend, every mask had been dropped. He was sick of trying to be strong when all he wanted to do was to scream until his voice became nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

All his anger came from sadness, she realized. He wasn't dangerous but he was desperately in need of someone to talk to. Someone who wouldn't walk out on him like Christine had done.

She walked over to him, carefully placing her small, delicate hand on his back. She moved to stand in front of him, removing the hands that hid his face. She felt her heart contracting when seeing the tears trickling their way down his face. His dark blue eyes screamed to her for help and in that moment he looked like a small child, with his quivering lips and tear streaked face.

Without saying a word, she embraced him tightly, standing on her tiptoes to bury her face in the soft skin on his throat. Ever so slowly, his arms circled around her waist until he held her as tightly as one would hold on to the railing of a sinking ship. His scent filled her senses, that summer day in her childhood flashing across her memory again and suddenly she recognized it. He smelled like the flowers she used to gather out on the meadow beside their house. Moon tears, her mother would call them since they only bloomed in the moonlight and was pale blue like tears. They had a very special scent, those flowers. _"It's the scent of adventure," _her father would say to her. _"It's the kind of scent that promises you danger and hardship but at the same time the greatest happiness you will ever know."_

Her father's voice echoed in her mind as she held Erik close and let him cry out on her shoulder. Would it be an adventure to stay with Erik? Would it bring her danger and hardship but at the same time the greatest happiness she would ever know? She had no answers to the questions, just that small sensation in her stomach that fluttered like butterflies whenever she touched him. The one that was fluttering inside her right now.

* * *

**A/N: Please R&R! I thank you for every opinion, the good and the bad and thanks for reading this. I will try to update soon. Love you all! **


	6. Confessions

**Chapter 5**

Albert de Martin had always regarded himself as a man with patience. In his mind, he liked to compare himself to the slyness, fierceness and strength of a lion. He knew the value of waiting for the opportune moment before striking, staying close to his pray but not making a move until it would be most profitable. When he struck, though, he did it from every angle and by doing so prevented the pray from getting away.

From the moment when he first laid eyes upon Serena Cartier, he knew that he had to have her. She _had_ to be his. It was a quest for pleasure as much as satisfying his ego. What he hadn't taken into account was that she would appear indifferent by his approach. Usually women were flattered or overjoyed when he showed interest in them, but Serena had been neither. Perhaps she already had someone she cared about?

Albert snorted dismissively. If that was the truth, that supposedly existing other man would soon find himself to be out of the picture.

But what he _didn't_ like was that Serena Cartier was found to be missing the day after her song debut with no one knowing where she had gone. She was tired and needed to go to bed, she had said. Well, now it appeared she had decided to celebrate after all – not just with Albert and that was angering him.

When he arrived at the Opera Populaire earlier that morning asking to see Serena, Madame Giry had only shaken her head telling him that Serena was nowhere to be found. The woman couldn't have much to gain from lying to him so he had to assume it was true.

So Serena thought she could be with some other man and treat Albert like he was unimportant? She would soon learn what a mistake that was!

* * *

Serena had expected Erik to do a lot of things when his tears finally subsided. She fully expected for him to be embarrassed and refuse to meet her eyes, or to curse himself for letting her see his vulnerable side and act stiffly around her. She had not expected him to regard his outburst as some sort of relief, though. It was as if he had been waiting to do that for so long and that he was actually grateful to her for having evoked it. All the walls that had been dropped earlier stayed down. He didn't close himself off again. Perhaps she had at last proven to him that she could be trusted and depended upon.

"I love this Opera house," he confessed when they sat beside each other on the couch, the fire blazing once again in the hearth.

"You do? But I had the impression that the Opera held only bad memories and that it was more like a prison than a home for you," she replied.

"It was, once," he admitted. "After… Christine left, I wanted nothing more than to die and be released from the pain I was enduring. Life didn't seem worth living without her. At first, I was reminded of her in everything. Every tune I played on my instruments seemed to have her voice hidden in the background. Every object here in my house had been touched by her. Her scent lingered still in the covers of her bed. Wherever I turned, I could see her before me. It drove me mad. Though I knew she was gone for real and that she would never return my heart wouldn't give up hope. I used to see her in my dreams, waiting for me here in the living room and I would wake up and rush out believing she was there, but every time I was met with silence and an empty chair in front of the fire. It tore my heart in two.

And one day I realized I couldn't live like that. I couldn't allow myself to suffer anymore. I could choose the easy way out and simply take my own life or I could try to live again. In the end, I chose the latter. When I reflected upon it, I came to the conclusion that it was pitiful to be drowning in my sorrows like I did. Surely I must have had other interests beside Christine? Admittedly, it had mainly revolved around scaring the stagehands and making demands to the managers and that was not an option for me anymore. If anyone found out I was still alive, they would call the police and have me executed for all the damage I've caused. Perhaps that is what I deserve."

She took his hand in hers, making him turn to look at her.

"No, Erik. You don't deserve that."

He smiled slightly before continuing.

"I still couldn't play my music, but I began to venture outside of my lair, sneaking around the stage just like old times. I was very careful, of course. I let no one see me. I would pretend that the past three years had not happened. I pretended that everything was as it had been before. But I knew it was only make-believe. I knew I could never get away from all the bad things I've done. No pretend would bring the people I killed in the fire back from the dead. I didn't mean to, of course, but I still did. And then one day, when I was creeping around the stage as usual, I saw you. You stood there all by yourself with your eyes closed and a soft smile on your lips."

He swallowed and forced himself to look at her, his nervous blue eyes meeting her brown tearful ones.

"In that moment, my heart stopped. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and from there on, the memory of Christine began to fade from my mind. I would think of you all the time and though I knew it was not safe for me to let you see me, I couldn't help myself. I had to see you, to talk to you. I figured it was worth the risk only to be released of my loneliness for a while. And then you surprised me by wanting to be my friend. You were not afraid of me. You acted no different towards me than you do to anyone else. I had never played or sung for you so it was not my music that caught your interest. It was only me and the person I am. And when you asked me to take you down here tonight, a part of me began to hope that you…"

He cut himself off, too afraid to keep going; too afraid that his heart would be broken once again. She knew it was up to her now. She could turn away from him, giving in to her fears because _oh, was she frightened! _It was not him, but simply the fact that she had no experience of love. She was as afraid of getting hurt as he was. No man had ever evoked any feelings inside her before. But whenever Erik was around, her heartbeat quickened and butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

"_Life is like a cliff," _her father told her when she was young. _"It's all about having the courage to take the leap." _

So she took a deep breath – and leaped.

"You intrigued me from the moment I met you as well. I couldn't see you properly when you stood there in the shadows. I could only estimate your height and make out your black cape. Your voice held me captivated immediately. It amazed me how easily you could read me and the following weeks I kept an eye out for you wherever I went, hoping to meet you again. And then I caught sight of you up on the catwalk that day on rehearsal. Without a second thought, I went up to see you, a part of me suspecting that you were the Phantom of the Opera from everything that Meg had told me. I agreed to meet you that night. I knew you would never hurt me and I trusted you enough already to dare to be alone with you. You made me laugh and I longed to see you again. And then I got the chance to sing on the stage, like I had always dreamed to, and suddenly I was both nervous and scared. But I knew everything would go well when I knew you'd be there to listen. I pretended I only sang for you and all my nervousness disappeared in a heartbeat. I knew exactly what I asked of you when I begged you to take me with you down here tonight. I asked you to forget Christine and trust me. I asked you to depend on me not to abandon you. And you did. You trusted me, you welcomed me into your house and you spent the better part of the night trying to beat me in chess."

He chuckled at that and the small sound gave her the courage to go on.

"When I held you a while ago, butterflies fluttered in my stomach and something my father said to me when I was young flashed across my mind. I tried to pinpoint that scent that surrounds you and suddenly recognized it as the scent of a kind of flower I would pick beside our house in my childhood. My mother called them Moon tears and my father would say to me that it was the scent of adventure. The kind of scent that promises you danger and hardship but at the same time the greatest happiness you will ever know. To tell the truth, I am scared to death right now. I have never been in love before but I also know that I would spend the rest of my life regretting it if I didn't dare to take a chance on this."

And so all the words where said. They sat gazing into each other's eyes, neither of them knowing what to say because whatever sentence appearing in their heads seemed to be superfluous.

"I do trust you, Serena," he said after a while. "I trust you enough to reveal my entire face to you, fully knowing that you might turn away from me like everyone else has done."

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and reached up to take off the white mask that covered the right side of his face. Maybe it was because she was already in love with him, but whatever she had been expecting to see behind the mask it was certainly not this. Sure his face was scarred, red and embossed as if caused by fire, but the sight did not scare her. When Meg had spoken of the true face of the Phantom, Serena had expected to see a monster. This was just… Erik.

"I thought you knew by now," Serena whispered and gently placed her hand on the scars. "I am not like everyone else. I won't turn away from you. I love you."

His eyes shot open in surprise but she only smiled and reached up to press her lips against his. After a second of hesitation, he kissed her back and she felt as if she could soar to the sky. This was more than she could have ever dreamed of, probably more than he could have dreamed of as well, and she knew her father had been right. This was the greatest happiness she would ever know.

* * *

"Serena?" Meg tapped lightly on her friend's door, beginning to worry.

Her mother had told her that Serena was missing from the Opera. No one knew where she had gone; only that she had retired to her room immediately after the show last night. Meg could fully understand that the press from the past week had begun to weight on Serena and had been glad that she went to bed early. After all, it had been Serena's first real show here at the Opera and in an unexpected twist of fate, she had been given the privileged of performing alone on the stage. She had been splendid, no question about it!

But this sudden absence had Meg real worried. Serena wasn't the kind of person to spend a lot of time alone. Perhaps Serena had decided to take the day off, walking around Paris to clear her head. Or perhaps something had happened to her. What if she was in danger? Maybe kidnapped or hurt? Maybe both?

Meg shuddered at the thought. Surely, there was a reasonable explanation to all this. But those two words kept echoing in her head: What if?

So Meg had taken it upon herself to take a look around Serena's room, maybe keep an eye out for clues. Like if there were any signs of struggle or any strange bloodstains. Meg had to suppress a nervous giggle. She had obviously heard too many murder case stories from the stagehands. Still, it couldn't hurt to be sure, right?

No one answered when she knocked, so she tried to turn the handle. The door opened easily and Meg took a quick look around her before slipping into the room. It was dark inside; all the candles put out. She reached for the box of matches in her pocket and lit the candle on the bed stand, thereafter using it to light a few more. That taken care of, she surveyed her surroundings and reluctantly had to admit everything looked normal. The room was clean and tidy and the bed was made. Maybe she hadn't gone to bed at all?

Meg walked over to the closet and peeked inside. The nightgown was gone and the beautiful dress Serena had worn when she sang last night hung neatly on the inside of the door. So Serena had changed into her nightgown and then decided to take a stroll around Paris? No, that didn't seem likely. Either she had been taken away forcefully, or she had wandered off on her own free will. And if she was dressed only in her nightgown, she must still be inside the Opera house.

A growing suspicion in her stomach made Meg turn towards the full-length mirror on the wall. Last time, with Christine, the mirror had been slightly ajar. There was no opening in this mirror that she could see, but what if she would…?

Meg hesitantly placed her hands on the mirror and gave a gently push inwards and to the side. Without a sound, the mirror slid to the side to reveal a dark passageway behind it. On the floor of the passageway, a few fresh, dark red rose petals lay; the small, silky things almost mocking her with their presence. How could she have been so stupid as to believe it had all been over three years ago? They never did find his body, did they?

Meg stared at the petals with her eyes big and mouth wide open, fear overtaking her mind. He was back. He wasn't dead. He'd been there all along. And he had taken Serena.

With a fearful gasp, Meg turned on her heeland rushed out of the room.

* * *

Later that afternoon, the man Albert had sent to the Opera house to investigate Serena Cartier's disappearance reported that Miss Cartier had returned. According to the man, she had been inside the Opera all the time but explained to everyone asking that she had needed some time alone. Women sure could be strange sometimes and Albert wasn't in the least pleased that she hadn't even returned from her solitude when he came to visit that morning. She must have heard that he was looking for her, but pretended that she didn't. Oh, well, the important thing was that she hadn't spent the night with a lover. That meant the field was still free for Albert to make a move.

As soon as he learned of her return, he ordered a carriage and hastened to the Opera. On the way, he stopped only to pick up a large bouquet of white roses. He was admitted entry to the Opera instantly, the two managers André and Firmin practically throwing themselves at his feet, groveling. Seemed the Opera could always afford a few extra sponsors; especially after Vicomte de Chagny had withdrawn his involvement with the Opera Populaire three years ago. Oh, Albert could sponsor, alright. If he got something in return, that is. Say… Serena, for example?

This wasn't something he shared with the managers just yet. He preferred to try and win her on his own before turning to threats and blackmail. But that would hardly be necessary. She'd come around sooner or later. Fame got to everyone on some level. Soon she'd begin to wish for expensive dresses and jewelry and who could better provide that for her but Albert?

He was so busy musing over his thoughts that he almost missed the hurried whispers and faint giggling that came from ahead. He slowed down, making his footsteps soundless and crept closer. What he saw made his vision turn red with anger.

Serena stood talking with someone he couldn't quite make out but it was without doubt a man. The person stood partly hidden in the shadows and only his black cape and dark suit was visible. Albert was good at estimating opponents and this man seemed both fit and slightly muscular. There was a dangerous aura around him, making it obvious to Albert that this wasn't just any man. This one would be a real fighter if you moved in on him in the wrong way.

Albert couldn't hear what they said to each other and his hands curved into shaking fists when he saw Serena smile softly and reach up to kiss the man. They said something more and then they parted ways, Serena walking back towards her room.

Albert sank down on a nearby chair, the bouquet dropping to the floor. So it had been another. That man thought he could have Serena for his own.

Unfortunately for him, Albert already had his eyes on her and he was known to never give up. Forget all the plans about winning her love fairly. It was time to move on to threats and blackmail. Whatever the cost, Serena would be his and that man would be taken care of. In one way or another.

* * *

**A/N: The story's beginning to speed up, isn't it? I'm hoping to get some more action and excitement in the following chapters. Keep a look out for Serena's brother in the next chapter! I'm planning on introducing him. Anyway thanks tomegumisakura for your review! Please, R&R and I promise to update soon. Oh, and Happy Easter everyone:D**


	7. Confrontations and Guilt

**A/N: **I'm really sorry about the long wait! I meant to update it two weeks ago but somehow I never had the time to finish the chapter. A lot's going on in school right now with tests and so on, so I guess that's the reason. I hope you'll forgive me.

Also, thanks a lot to **Illandrial** and **sbp **for your reviews! You guys are the best!

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Chapter 6

Pierre Morel was a man not bothered by the concept of what was right and what was wrong. He was quite an ordinary man; fitting into any crowd without problem. Contrary to what you might believe of a man like him, he had no outer features that gave away his ruthlessness. His hair was not greasy and straggling and his nose was most certainly not crooked or decorated with warts. To tell the truth, Pierre was a pretty handsome man with golden hair and clear blue eyes, like the sky on a sunny summer day. Depending on what situation you should meet him in, you would either take him for a good-looking apprentice at one of the many shops in Paris or a handsome aristocrat. If you should see him at a ball, you would never suspect what a cool and calculating mind that was hiding behind those innocent eyes. Pierre looked like a man you could trust, a man you could easily fall for even, but what a mistake you would make to do so.

They say that the people most insane look like someone you would never suspect, right? That a person you had as a neighbor for ten years and you thought you knew from the inside and out, one day could turn around and torture several people to death and you would still be incapable of believing that person could have done something like that. That's the greatest strength of someone willing to bend the rules, someone not bothered by murder as long as he gets paid; you _would_ never suspect him. And that's how he can carry on his business all his life without being stopped.

In fact, Albert de Martin had found Pierre's services to be of use a number of times. Whenever he needed acts of violence to be carried out and people to be taken care of, Pierre was the one he would call upon. And Albert was very generous with payment for a job well-done. Throughout their years of cooperation, some sort of friendship had been forged between the two of them. Both of them had use of the other and knew what benefits that came from working together. Albert knew that his wishes would be taken care of swiftly and unnoticed without any loose treads leading back to himself and Pierre knew that there was much, much money to earn by following Albert's biddings.

Therefore, it was not surprising that Pierre was the man Albert would send for when he had the picture of what needed to be done worked out for him. The identity of the mysterious man needed to be revealed and then he needed to be silenced immediately.

Pierre nodded to show that he had understood, sitting on a chair in front of Albert's desk in his study but couldn't help to ask a question - something he had never done before.

"Why _this_ girl, Albert? Why do you want _this_ girl so badly that you are willing to turn to murder and paying greats sums of money for it? I'm not complaining, mind you, I could always use more money for we both know I have quite extravagant taste but why not go for some other girl? They practically throw themselves at your feet!"

Albert rose abruptly from his chair and turned his back on Pierre to look out the window. He was silent for such a long time that Pierre began to shift uncomfortably on the chair, wondering if he should make a run for it.

"She haunts my dreams every night," Albert said at last, his voice barely a whisper. "Wherever I turn I see her, her eyes mocking me, telling me I can never have her. In the beginning I only wanted her to play with; to conquer and then discard, but it's not that simple anymore. I want her for keeps and I'll get what I want in the end. I always do. She can turn me down over and over again but I'll have her sooner or later. I don't even care if I have to rape her or keep her imprisoned. No method is too hideous; no price is too high. I'll get her. She'll just wait and see. But, my dear Pierre-"

Albert turned back towards him, his eyes dangerously chilly,

"- I'll never get her if you don't get a move on and kill her little friend."

Pierre nodded again and hurried out, knowing it would be to push his luck if he kept asking question. He couldn't quite picture to be that obsessed with one woman. Why, he just had to take a stroll down specific alleys and pay a small sum to be with beautiful, warm, soft women any night of the week! No promises, no tiring courtship; just one night and then it were all over and the next night he could pick someone else.

That's the way he liked it and only recently that had been the way Albert liked it as well. But ever since he went to that last Opera, he had changed. That Cartier woman had turned his head with some exceptional beauty she was said to possess and Pierre feared that if his friend didn't come to his mind and realize what he was doing pretty soon, there would be no going back. He would risk losing everything; his name, his fortune, his business, his _life_ just to get one bloody woman when there were so many of them.

Well, that was just plain insanity from Pierre's point of view.

* * *

Rehearsals for the next Opera began the following day. The managers had made more profit out of the last one than they ever thought possible and were eager to get everything started again.

Strangely enough, Meg didn't come by to pick Serena up that morning. Not once during all the months that had passed since Serena came to the Opera Populaire had she failed to show up. Perhaps she was ill?

Serena hurried down the corridors towards the practice rooms, repeatedly being halted along the way by people working at the Opera who wanted to know where she'd been before when everyone thought she was missing. She really didn't know what to tell them. "I just took a stroll down to the Phantom's lair who, by the way, ISN'T DEAD, to confess to him that I love him," was probably not the best thing to say, even though it was the truth. So she stuck to the story that she had needed some time alone but received only doubting looks in return. Apparently, they found the story as unlikely as she did but it was the best she had been able to come up with. It wasn't as if she cared about what these people thought about her, anyway.

But what about Meg? There was nothing about Serena that Meg didn't know, apart from the whole Phantom business, that is. They shared everything with each other. Should she tell Meg the truth? The thing was, Serena still remembered quite clearly the frightened look upon Meg's face when she told Serena about the Phantom of the Opera. It was obvious that Meg was still afraid of him, even though he was believed to be dead. So what would Meg do if she found out that her best friend was in love with the Phantom?

"Probably drag me off to the Psychiatric Ward while hysterically calling for the Police," Serena thought dryly but immediately regretted the words.

Meg would never be hysterical. Was there a way to explain the situation to Meg so she would understand? Maybe, but how?

Serena stored the problem to the back of her head to ponder upon later. Right now, she had rehearsals to think about. Hopefully, everything would work out fine in the end.

* * *

Madame Valet, the vocals teacher, gave Serena a questioning look when the young chorus girl walked through the door.

"Miss Cartier, what are you doing here?"

Serena faltered in her steps, suddenly nervous. Had the managers been so angry with her absence that they had decided to throw her out of the Opera?

"Um, shouldn't I be here?" Serena asked.

"No, no, Miss Cartier. After a performance like yours last night, do you really think Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firmin would allow you to go back to be a mere chorus girl? No, they were so pleased that they decided the Opera Populaire should have _two_ Prima Donnas! Monsieur Reyer and Signora Giudicelli are undoubtedly waiting for you on the stage. You must hurry!"

Completely at loss for words, Serena did as she was told and hurried off to the stage. So now she and Carlotta were both Prima Donnas? What would the self-centered loudmouth think about that?

The answer to her question was provided as soon as she dashed out on the stage and found Carlotta eyeing her the way a wolf would eye its dinner. This would not be pretty.

"Ah, Miss Cartier!" Monsieur Reyer said happily. "We were beginning to wonder if you would show up at all."

"Yes, I'm sorry, Monsieur Reyer, but I didn't know I was supposed to be here. Madame Valet informed me just a moment ago."

"I see. Let's get started then, Miss Cartier – Signora Giudicelli."

Carlotta's face darkened when Serena's name was called before her own, but she didn't say anything.

"Miss Cartier, would you be so kind as to sing some scales for me?"

The fact that Serena was picked before her as well did nothing to lighten Carlotta's mood. The rehearsal in itself was uneventful, but Serena almost dreaded the end of it. The only thing to have kept Carlotta from throwing herself at Serena was Monsieur Reyer and as soon as he left, Carlotta would have a thing or two to say.

She was not mistaken. The moment Monsieur Reyer announced that they were done for the day and left, Carlotta whipped around to face Serena with blazing eyes.

"Who do you think you are?" She hissed. "Do you think you can take my place as Prima Donna just like that?"

"You have no reason to blame me for it," Serena replied. "It was the managers who made the decision, not me."

"Well, you would hardly complain, would you?" Carlotta said bitterly.

"Would _you_?" Serena shot back.

Carlotta snorted and reached up to make sure her hair was still perfect.

"Oh, well, I will not have to put up with you long. Christine Daae thought she could steal the light from me as well, but she left with her tail between her legs soon enough, didn't she?"

"That was hardly your doing," Serena said. "It wasn't as if she left out of fear for you. She left because of the Ph… because of other reasons."

"The Phantom, you mean? That stinking, cold-hearted murderer that died three years ago? That bastard got what he deserved! A most vicious sight he was to behold when Christine ripped off his mask on this very stage. He looked like the Devil himself and I hope he went straight to Hell!"

"You take that back," Serena whispered angrily.

"What's it to you? That was before you came here anyway."

"You take that back! He wasn't a cold-hearted murderer and not a Devil!"

"No!" Carlotta screeched, making Serena jump in surprise over the sudden sound. "If he wasn't a murderer, then how come my Piangi is dead?"

Serena's anger vanished instantly and was replaced with sympathy.

"He didn't mean to kill Piangi. It was an accident," Serena said and touched Carlotta's arm.

Carlotta took a step back to avoid the touch and blinked furiously to hold back the tears threatening to fall.

"Murder or accident, what's the difference? Piangi's still dead."

* * *

Once Serena was alone on the stage, she sat down on some sort of requisition for the next playand sighed. She knew what Erik had been responsible of doing three years ago and she loved him, but it was hard when she was faced with the consequences of his actions like this. It didn't make her love him any less but it made her sad to think about all the pain and sorrow he had caused. The knowledge of it probably hurt him more than her, but still…

A faint _thud_ behind her made her realize she wasn't alone anymore.

"Did you hear it all?" She asked, without facing him.

"Yes," he replied and she closed her eyes.

They were silent for several minutes. Then she opened her eyes again.

"I wish I could have protected you," she whispered. "I wish you hadn't heard what she said."

A warm hand squeezed her shoulder and she was surprised to see that he didn't wear his black gloves for once. She turned to look at him, his eyes dark pools of pain, but he still tried to smile for her sake.

"Carlotta's pain is my doing, however accidental Piangi's death was. I should be reminded of my actions. I will have to live with the guilt for the rest of my life. It's my burden to bear. But I will not allow you trying to bear it for me."

She got to her feet.

"I cannot help it. The ones you love, you want to protect. I want you to be happy, Erik. You've been through so much and I want you to smile, not cry."

She took a step forward into the protecting frame of his arms. He hugged her close, inhaling her scent. He wanted this to last more than he had wanted anything in his entire life. He had never been this happy before. Even though he trusted her when she said she would always be there, life so far had taught him that everyone left sooner or later. So he imprinted his moment in his memory forever; the way she fit so perfectly in his arms, the way she looked when she smiled, the way she smelled of flowers.

"How I love you, Serena," he breathed.

"I love you, too," she replied.

They looked into each others eyes and she smiled when his lips descended upon hers. She would never tire of kissing him. Then, suddenly:

"Serena? Are you there?"

They hastily broke apart, Serena's eyes wide with fear.

"It's Meg!"

Erik nodded and smiled one last time before disappearing into the shadows. Serena took a deep breath and turned around.

"Yes, Meg, I'm here."

Meg appeared before her. Was it just Serena's imagination or did Meg eye the shadows as if searching for something?

"I was beginning to wonder if you were ill when you didn't show up this morning," Serena said.

Meg didn't reply. She studied Serena for a few moments in silence.

"Where were you last night and this morning?" She asked abruptly.

Serena was completely unprepared for the question.

"I… I just needed some time alone."

"So you decided to take a walk around the Opera dressed only in your nightgown?" Meg inquired disbelievingly.

Serena didn't know what to say.

"Why do you lie to me, Serena? I thought we were friends?"

"We are!" Serena assured.

"Really? Then why don't you tell me the truth? Why don't you tell me that you were down in the Phantom's lair the entire night?"

Serena gasped and took a step back. Meg knew! Oh God, what had she done? Had she called the Police?

"Why didn't you tell me that the Phantom was alive?" Meg continued. "Why didn't you tell me that you'd met him and that you willingly spent some time with him? How, Serena, can you protect that murdering madman?"

* * *

**A/N:** So what do you think about it so far? I know I said Serena's brother would be introduced in this chapter but he had to wait. I thought Serena's confrontations with Carlotta and Meg was more important. Please R&R! Love you all!


	8. Disclosures

**Chapter 7**

Serena looked into Meg's accusing eyes for the longest time. She knew that she had to make Meg understand her actions here and now. There would be no second chance. Their friendship and Erik's life and freedom were at stake.

"I'm going to start from the beginning and I prey that you'll listen without prejudices. I hope you'll understand."

It was now or never.

"I met Erik – the man you would refer to as the Phantom of the Opera – my first day here at the Opera. I was standing here on the stage, dreaming of singing in front of a full house. Then suddenly I saw someone in the shadows. I couldn't see him properly so I assumed it was a stagehand. He asked me to sing for him when he learned I was a chorus girl and I complied. After I'd finished, he complimented my voice, asked for my name and was gone. He intrigued me. His voice was so beautiful and oddly musical. When I returned to my room that night, I found a red rose with a black silk ribbon tied around the stem waiting for me and I knew it was from him by the note that came with it."

Meg remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

"A few weeks later, you told me about the Phantom of the Opera. Do you remember asking me what I was looking at afterwards? I had caught a glimpse of that man again up on the catwalks and went up to see if it truly was him. After hearing your story, I began to suspect that this mysterious man might actually be the Phantom, but I kept my suspicions to myself. Up on the catwalk, he asked me to sing for him again but I knew that if I did, someone down on the stage might hear. So I promised to meet him up on the roof that night and sing for him, if he told me his name. After some hesitation, he said that I could call him Erik and I left. True to my word, I went up to the roof that night. Maybe you think me stupid but even after spending so little time with him, I trusted him. I figured; if he truly was the Phantom, he must have had a reason for showing himself to me. I mean, everyone thought he was dead and if they knew he wasn't, they would capture him and probably hang him. So why had he taken the risk of letting me see him? I wanted to know the answer. So there I was, standing on the roof singing for him. This time when I finished, he let me see him. He knew I knew who he was and wondered if I wasn't scared. I told him that if he had threatened me or tried to kill me the times I had met him, I would have been frightened. But he had done nothing of the sort. I also told him that I wanted to be his friend."

"Are you out of your mind?" Meg interrupted.

"Shh! I'm not finished. Though, he actually asked me the same thing. He asked me what we would be doing as friends and I told him that I could sing for him if he wanted me to or perhaps he could play something for me, since _you_ told me he was a genius on both organ and violin."

"That's what Christine used to say."

"Anyway, after that, when I was about to leave, I said that I couldn't see why everyone was so afraid of him. He replied that he could be dangerous but that he suppressed that side only for me. I said to him that he shouldn't. That if he kept everyone away, they would never get a chance to be his friend and love him. And he closed his eyes and said: 'No one could ever love me, Serena'."

Meg was confused. She didn't know what to think. The Phantom was supposed to be evil but nothing about the way he had acted towards Serena spoke of evil.

"And then it was that time when I offered to sing Carlotta's song 'Remember'. I was so nervous about singing in front of you all but then I spotted Erik up on the catwalks and I was instantly calmed. I felt like I could do anything as long as he was watching. Last night, before the show and before you came by to pick me up, he spoke to me in my room. He calmed me when I was nervous and said that he believed in me. After the show, Erik spoke to me in my room again and said my voice had been perfect. I begged for him to let me see him and for him to take me with him. I knew the last person he had taken with him down to his lair must have been Christine and I wanted him to move on. He appeared behind the mirror and tried to talk me out of it, as if I didn't know enough about him for asking him that. He said that no one would willingly surrender their safety into the hands of the Phantom, but I only replied that I trusted him without doubt and would willingly put my safety into his hands any day of the week. So he took me with him."

"And what happened down there? I came by to check on you later and found the passageway behind the mirror where a few red rose petals lay on the ground. That's how I knew he was alive."

"He showed me his lair and in order to let him know he could truly rely on me that I wasn't going to leave him like Christine had done, I said the thing most unlike Christine I could think of. I said that I would like to play a game of chess. For many hours we played and then he showed me a bed where I could sleep. I awoke later and found him sitting at the organ but he wasn't playing. I asked him why and he said that he couldn't anymore, that his music had abandoned him. I wondered if it was because of Christine. He became so angry when I mentioned her name. That was the first time he had frightened me. I told him he scared me and he looked horrified. He begged me to forgive him and asked right out into the air if he would never be able to control that horrid feeling of anger. He began to cry and I comforted him. I think that was when I began to understand that I had fallen in love with him."

Meg gave a startled gasp. Surely she must have heard wrong? It wasn't possible that Serena meant what she had said. This was the Phantom they were talking about after all. Even if he was nothing like Meg had pictured.

"When his tears had subsided, we sat in front of the fireplace and he told me a lot of things. How he felt after Christine left; how he would dream that she had returned and would run out into the living room when he woke up, expecting to find her there. But all he found was an empty chair. He also said that one day he decided that it was enough. He had to start living again and he began to sneak around the Opera, just like old times. It was then that he met me. And he told me how he felt for me."

A loving smile graced Serena's lips and Meg stared in wonder. Serena truly meant what she had said. The dreamy look upon Serena's face told Meg everything she needed to know.

"I said that I felt the same. I told him what I thought when I first met him, how I trusted him and knew he would never hurt me, how much I missed him when we weren't together. I said to him that I was scared to death, that I had never been in love but that I knew I would spend the rest of my life regretting it if I didn't take a chance on this. He said to me that he trusted me and to prove it, he removed his mask. After what you had told me, I was expecting to see a monster. But I saw no monster. I saw only Erik. So I kissed him."

Serena's smile disappeared and she bowed her head for a moment. Then she turned to look at Meg, her eyes blank with tears.

"That was what happened. That's how it is. I'm in love with the Phantom of the Opera. I hope you can forgive me for lying to you, Meg and I hope with all my heart that we can remain friends. I didn't want to lie but I was afraid you would call for the Police and I had to protect Erik."

A few minutes ago, Meg didn't want to understand. Now she realized something. The Phantom she had known three years ago was truly dead, but this Erik Serena described had survived. Perhaps it was the person the Phantom had always been underneath; the one nobody had seen before. But Serena had and it had changed her. Not in a bad way, but for the better. Love was something no one should pass up when given the chance.

Meg felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips and hugged Serena close.

"I forgive you, Serena. I understand why you acted the way you did. The picture of Erik you have described for me sounds nothing like the Phantom I thought I knew. I would be honored if I got an opportunity to get to know your Erik a little better."

Serena laughed and returned the hug.

"Oh, Meg, I'm sure we'll have plenty of time for that! I'm so happy you understand!"

The two girls laughed happily together, both of them failing to notice the person eavesdropping behind one of the curtains. Pierre Morel had come to the Opera Populaire hoping to find Serena and perhaps spy on her for a while until that mysterious lover of hers showed up. But the information he had been given was nothing less than disturbing.

This woman Albert was so transfixed by had an affair with the Phantom of the Opera! Pierre had heard the stories about the ghost down in the catacombs just like everyone else. Everyone knew his name after that chandelier incident three years ago. And this girl knew who he was and what he had done and _still_ loved him? She would pass up a life in wealth and comfort for a drafty, chilly home in the catacombs of the Opera living with a murderer?

Pierre had a feeling Albert would not be happy about this.

* * *

The following morning, a carriage pulled up in front of the Opera carrying only one person. It was a young man in his late twenties, his clothes simple but of fine quality. His dark brown hair shifted slightly in the wind and his brown eyes traveled from the foot of the building all the way up towards the roof. A glimpse of interest and admiration showed in the dark depths of his eyes for a moment before he put his hat on, paid the driver and walked up the stairs to the double doors of the Opera House.

The distant sound of singing reached his ears as soon as he stepped inside and a recognizing smile graced his lips. A servant was already on his way towards the handsome stranger.

"I beg your pardon, Monsieur, but the Opera is not open for the public until later tonight. Perhaps you could come back then?"

The young man only smiled in reply, shaking his head.

"I thank you, but I have come to see someone."

The servant made a face; as if was ashamed he had to do this.

"I'm very sorry, Monsieur, but we can not allow people to walk into the Opera anyhow they please. It's for the safety of the staff, you see."

The calming smile on the man's lips remained.

"I'm sorry; I should have been more specific. I have come to see my sister, Serena Cartier. My name is Nathaniel Cartier. Could you please tell her I am here to see her and then I can wait here in the meantime?"

"Most certainly, Monsieur."

The servant hurried away and Nathaniel, preferably called Nate, sat down upon a couch to the right of the doors, studying the painted ceiling with much interest. Only a few minutes later, Serena came running towards him with a happy smile on her face.

"Nate!"

With a hearty laugh, he seized her in a fierce hug. Brother and sister drew apart, mere words not enough to express how much they'd missed each other.

"You should have told me you were coming," she scolded. "If I'd known, I could have asked Madame Giry to find you a room to stay in."

"I wanted it to be a surprise, Serena. If your Madame can't arrange something, I can stay at one of the motels."

"Don't be silly! You can stay in my room should it prove to be any problems."

"Now, now, sister, think of what people will say," he teased.

"We're siblings, stupid! It's perfectly innocent!"

He raised an eyebrow, but decided to drop the subject. Once again inclining his head backwards, he looked up to the ceiling.

"This is the most beautiful building I have ever been inside. I would love to know how the architect that drew it could come up with the idea. I bet he would have a few things to learn a fellow architect," he said.

"Well, brother, I think I can arrange a meeting with him if you'd like. After all, we are in love with each other."

Nate whipped around to stare at her wide-eyed, his mouth agape.

"You're in love?"

* * *

Albert de Martin threw his brandy glass into the fire with an aggravated scream. Pierre Morel flinched but stood his ground.

"You're telling me she's in love with the disfigured murdering bastard living beneath the Opera House! You're telling me a goddamn cripple bested me for her love!"

"Yes," Pierre replied instantly.

With anther scream, the decanter with brandy joined the glass in the fire. Albert felt like hitting, kicking, _killing_ someone. He took a deep breath to regain his calm and walked over to the cupboard holding his private weapons.

"I want you to solve this little problem as soon as possible, Pierre. You do not hesitate to kill, understood?"

A smile crossed Pierre's face and he put his hand on the comforting weight of his pistol.

"When, my dear friend, have I ever hesitated to kill?"

* * *

**A/N:** I'm so, so sorry I haven't updated sooner! I know I said I would but obviously my memory isn't as good as I thought. Thanks to **Mayla** and **sbp **for your reviews! Love you guys so much! The story's escalating, don't you think? We're drawing nearer to the peak and soon all Hell will break loose. I'm so happy you guys are actually enjoying this story and I will really try to update soon. Thanks a lot for your time!


	9. New meetings

**Chapter 8**

Erik looked at her with disbelief.

"You want me to meet him? Do you really think that's a good idea?"

"What do you mean?" Serena wondered. "You don't trust me?"

The worry that had appeared on his face as soon as Serena mentioned she wanted him to meet her brother vanished and he smiled, reaching down to grasp her hand and raised it to his lips.

"I trust you with all my heart, Serena. I realize how important it is to you that I meet your family and I would truly love to get to know your brother, especially since you tell me he's a gifted architect. I'm only worried someone will see me and alert the police."

"It's been three years, Erik, and they all believe you to be dead. It's not likely anyone would recognize you as the Opera Ghost even if they did caught a glimpse of you. It's time to let go of the past. Start living again, Erik."

He turned away from her.

"I've never lived at all. My whole life I've been stuck inside this Opera house, mostly down in the catacombs. Until I met you, I was sure I was meant to live all alone, that no one could ever feel anything besides repulsion and fear around me. This 'living' you speak of, I don't know how to do that."

She walked up behind him and put her arms around him, tears in her eyes for all the things he had been put through in his life. He had known nothing but pain and hardship and everything he had endured, he had endured alone.

"I've got you, Erik. I won't let you fall. If you let me, I will teach you how to live for real."

He breathed out with a small chuckle and turned around in her embrace to hug her back.

"Yes, I'd like that," he whispered.

She drew back, wiping away her tears.

"So will you come with me and meet my brother? I thought we could meet him up on the rooftop. It's less likely someone will see you there."

He looked thoughtful for a moment and then he nodded.

"I'll come with you, but only if you allow me to show up after a short while."

She narrowed her eyes at him, suddenly suspicious.

"You want to scare him, don't you?"

He grinned mischievously. He'd known all along she would see right through him. But you can't abandon your nature completely, can you? After all, he was the Phantom of the Opera. He was used to dramatic entries.

"Call it a remnant from my darker self. Nothing exceeds the surprised look on a person's face who didn't hear you coming."

She sighed, rolling her eyes. She should have anticipated this.

"Yes, I noticed very early in our acquaintance that you feel that way."

He would still surprise her quite often. He would come up behind her silent as a cat, not uttering a word until she felt his hot breath against her neck and spun around with a gasp. She reproached him for it, but he claimed it to be a harmless pleasure. 'Harmless till the day you give me a heart attack', she would answer.

"Very well," she continued. "If that is the only way to make you agree to this…"

"Splendid! See you later, then, Serena."

And before she could say another word he was gone. She shook her head and walked off to find her brother, silently wondering if boys ever grew up.

* * *

Meanwhile, having been left alone a little longer than he preferred, Nate decided to take a walk around the Opera. The chance to study a building this beautiful was too good to pass up and who knew if he'd even be able to stay here for long? Perhaps that Madame Giry would find it inappropriate and throw him out.

He was walking along corridors, occasionally halting to carefully knock on the walls or admire an especially finely crafted door more closely and was so caught up in what he was doing that he actually passed the open door before realizing what he had seen.

He went back and looked in, eyes falling upon a lone figure moving gracefully across the room in pirouettes, dancing to music only she could hear. She spun around one last time, lifted one of her legs high towards the ceiling for a few moments and then dipped down in a perfect curtsy, her blonde hair flowing down her back like a silky fan and her head bowed.

Out of impulse, he began clapping his hands and with a startled gasp and wide eyes, the young girl stood up straight, clearly uncomfortable about having been caught practicing her steps in this room all by herself.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Nate hastened to say. "I didn't mean to scare you; I just wanted to express my compliments for your fine dancing."

"Thank you, sir," the girl replied, a stubborn sparkle replacing the frightened look in her eyes, "but I wasn't scared. I was just… surprised, that's all. Do you make a habit out of watching women without their notice?"

Against his will, he found himself smiling when instead he should be upset by what she was implying.

"No, mademoiselle, I most certainly do not. Then again, I don't see why you should be so defensive. You really do dance beautifully and it seemed only appropriate to tell you so."

"Well, I still think it's unnerving of you to watch someone without their knowledge," she said with a delicate snort, but a faint blush appeared on her cheeks nonetheless from his compliment.

"Then I promise to let you know next time I'm watching you practice."

She looked at him with sudden suspicion.

"Who are you, sir? I do not believe I've seen you before around here."

"No, mademoiselle, I arrived today. My name is Nathaniel Cartier, Serena Cartier's older brother."

A sunny smile appeared on her lips and every trace of suspicion was immediately gone.

"Are you Serena's brother? Pleased to make your acquaintance! My name is Meg Giry and I'm Serena's best friend here at the Opera Populaire. Have you come to see how she's fairing? I promise you, I have done everything in my power to make her feel at home." Suddenly worried, she added; "She hasn't complained about me, has she? I fear we had a bit of a squabble some time ago but I had the impression that was all taken care of and we were friends again. Has she said something to the contrary?"

"No, no, mademoiselle Giry, there's nothing to worry about! She hasn't complained about you or said anything about a squabble. From what I gather, she likes it here very much. I only came to visit her and see that everything was well. Apparently, it's better than well since she told me she was in love with someone and wanted me to meet him. You wouldn't know who she was talking about, would you?"

Meg frowned and then nodded.

"Yes, I know who she's talking about, but I haven't had the pleasure of meeting that man myself yet so I cannot tell you very much about him. I think you will have to form your own opinion but if she is in love with him, he must be something special indeed."

Nate smiled.

"I think you are right."

He took a look around the room and then turned his eyes back to her.

"Are you planning on staying here longer, mademoiselle, or can I escort you back to the more occupied parts of the Opera? I won't be much of an escort though, for I fear I didn't exactly pay attention to where I was going so it's doubtful I'll be able to find my way back to Serena's room."

Meg returned his smile, taking hold of his arm with easy affection.

"No, I would be honored if you would escort me. Although, it will be best if I show the way, non?"

"Please do, mademoiselle."

"Please call me Meg, sir. You don't have to be formal with your friends. You are Serena's brother and I am her friend; we already know each other."

"I will, if you call me Nate."

* * *

"Why do I have a sneaking suspicion you don't want anyone to see us going up here, Serena?" Nate asked a while later, as he climbed yet another set of stairs behind his sister. "Is the rooftop a forbidden place to visit?"

"No, but not many do. It's quite the exercise, isn't it?"

Nate sighed, brushing dust of his shoulder and plucking spider webs out of his hair. 'Quite the exercise'? That's the understatement of the year!

"Why can't we meet this love of yours in your room or at some café in Paris instead of at the roof of the Opera? What is he doing up there, anyway? Don't tell me his some sort of squatter you've taken pity on and smuggled up here so he would have somewhere to sleep and then typically fallen in love with!"

Serena paused for a moment, regarding him with a completely blank expression.

"What? That was the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! Where do you get those ideas? Are you sure you would not be better suited writing sappy love stories instead of working as an architect?"

Nate made a face and gave his sister a light slap on the arm, making her laugh.

"No, dearest _baby_ sister, I am quite content as I am, thank you, and does not passionately dream in secret of writing 'sappy love stories'!"

"Really? Because you had me fooled there for a moment."

"Haha. But seriously, why do we have to meet him up here and fight both dust and spider webs in the process?"

"I suffer from neither, dearest _ancient_ brother. Watch where you're going and you won't walk into piles of dust or spider webs hanging from the ceiling. And… you'll understand everything when you meet him."

"What, does he have a need to stay out of attention? Is he some kind of Arabic prince having fallen madly in love with you and wants to take you with him back to Arabia and make you his queen?"

"Remember what I said about those sappy love stories? I seriously think that could be something for you. And no, he's not an Arabic prince. But it _is_ important that he doesn't draw any attention to himself. I said you would understand when you meet him so stop pestering me with stupid questions and watch where you're going instead. That spider web you have on top of your head really doesn't match your suit."

"Serena, you are the very embodiment of humor."

"I try."

"Oh, but this is _wonderful!_" Nate exclaimed as they came out onto the roof of the Opera House. "I've never seen a building of its like! See here, the curve of rail blending in perfectly with the rest of the structure? Or the way the edges meet so that the space of the roof seems a lot bigger than it actually is?"

Serena had to smile at his apparent fascination. All his life, her brother had had an interest in buildings and their design and she was glad to see he thrived in the profession he had chosen.

"And this little detail here, I mean, it's just brilliant! It's more than a piece of art, it is perfection in itself! Mere words cannot describe the geniality behind this structure!"

"I thank you, sir, for your kind words."

The phrase was spoken softly, like a caressing whisper, but it still succeeded in startling Nate a great deal. He spun around towards the man who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the roof.

"It is not often," Erik continued. "That my work is complimented so highly."

Willing his heart to stop racing, Nate studied the man before him. He was quite tall, dressed entirely in black and with handsome features. But his face, on the other hand, was partly covered in a white mask, which Nate found very strange.

"Erik, you came!" Serena said with a happy smile.

Nate glanced at her for a second, once again startled but this time for another reason. As far as he could remember, he had never heard her sound quite so happy. Her feelings for this man must be serious indeed.

"I promised I would," Erik replied and went over to her, settling for merely giving her a kiss on the hand instead of on the lips. He wasn't sure it would be appropriate to do so in front of her brother just yet.

"I assume this is the secret lover of yours that you wanted me to meet?" Nate asked her.

"Yes, it is," she confirmed and then couldn't help but tease him: "And he is no squatter, nor an Arabic prince."

"Very funny," Nate said, both of them noticing the confused look upon Erik's face.

"Just something Nate said on our way up here," Serena explained. "He was trying to come up with reasons for why the three of us couldn't meet in a more public place instead of on the roof."

Erik nodded in understanding.

"Well, I suppose introductions are in order," Erik said with a slight bow. "My name is Erik Destler and it's a pleasure to meet you, monsieur."

"Nathaniel Cartier and it's a pleasure to meet you as well, monsieur," Nate replied with a similar bow.

"I take it you are an architect, monsieur Cartier, judging by your earlier words? You seem to have some experience in the area?"

"Why, yes, but not nearly as much as you must have had if you designed this whole building. It truly is beautiful."

"Again, I thank you."

Serena smiled inwardly, content that this seemed to go so well. It meant a lot to her that the two of them got along.

"I apologize if my question upsets you, monsieur Destler," Nate began hesitantly. "But I have to ask why you wear a mask upon your face. Is it a question of fashion or is it because of something else?"

"Nate, you don't have to know why…" Serena said, irritated, but was cut off by Erik.

"Please call me Erik, and I understand you must wonder."

"The stories of the Phantom of the Opera are not unknown to me, Erik," Nate stated, the other two realizing he must have suspected Erik's true identity all along. "I do not judge those I don't know, but I have heard what actions the Phantom was guilty of bringing about a few years ago. Are you that Phantom and are you guilty of what the rumors say?"

Serena was about to reply, but Erik held up his hand to silence her, meeting Nate's gaze all along.

"I am the one referred to as the Phantom and three years ago, circumstances made me guilty of both murder and burning this Opera House almost to the ground. I assure you, I didn't mean for any of it to happen but it did and I can never atone completely for that. I can only hope people understand I didn't do it on purpose. I never intentionally murdered anyone three years ago and as far as most people are concerned, the Phantom of the Opera has been dead a long time. I would wish for them to continue to think so. I haven't been the cause of trouble in years and have only observed from afar. Please believe me when I tell you I mean no one any harm, and least of all Serena."

Nate was silent for a while, studying Erik's face. Then he finally nodded and smiled for the first time since coming face to face with Erik.

"I believe you."

* * *

**A/N: Oh, god. Really, it's been TOO long!!! I can't BELIEVE I haven't updated until now. It's actually much thanks to you, Hikari Yamamoto. I didn't think anyone read this story anymore so, even though I had the next chapter pretty much finished, I didn't update. But, after your review I realized maybe everyone hadn't given up on me… ;) Thank you so much.**** And about what you said, you know that I haven't described what Serena looks like? I have, a little. In chapter 3, before Serena sings **_**Remember**_** in front of all those people, she stands in front of the mirror and I mention the colour of her hair and that she has dark eyes. Eyes so dark brown that they are close to black is what I meant by that. But, you're right. Her appearance isn't often mentioned. I will make sure to do something about that in the next chapter. Thank you for bringing it to my attention. :) **

**All you others out there who have an interest in this story: I promise I'll try to update soon. I have some ideas for coming chapters. Just, please, review! Reviews make me work faster. :D Hugs and kisses! **


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